Criminal Minds One-Shots
by Cloverblossoms
Summary: This going to be a collection of one-shots I will write about a certain scene or episode if I think it should have gone differently. Or I may post my original short stories. Nevertheless, these will focus mainly on the relationships between all of the main characters.
1. Dinner at Rossi's

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. Also, I'm sure that there are many people out there that have written one-shots about the same scene(s) that I will in this book. I assure you I'm not copying from anybody.**

 **Basically, this is what I think should have happened at the end of "Proof". This says a lot of things that I feel were left unsaid in the series. I felt like poor Reid was treated so unfairly. I also wanted to further explain both his and JJ's feelings.**

 ***This has been edited since the first time I posted it, so you may notice a few minor changes.**

Gathered at Rossi's, the BAU was having a fairly enjoyable time, considering the circumstances. Emily Prentiss had come back from the dead, after weeks of Hotch and JJ telling the team that she was gone for good. Rossi and Morgan were taking things well; however, the resident genius was not. In fact, he wasn't even there with them, and they all felt his presence like a gaping hole.

"Now, in a large pan, we fry up our pancetta, keeping a sharp eye on the edges," David Rossi instructed, stirring the ingredients around in a pan. "Make sure the edges are crisp."

"But careful not to burn the onions," Hotch interjected, earning a 'bravo' from Rossi.

"Now, sauté until translucence," he instructed. He opened his mouth continue the cooking lesson, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted him.

Everybody turned to look at the front door, hoping it was him.

"I've got it," Morgan offered, walking to the door. And, sure enough, it was Dr. Spencer Reid standing on the other side of the door.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he approached the rest of the group, who were huddled around the island in Rossi's kitchen. He and JJ made eye contact for a moment, and then turned away.

He knew he'd been treating her unfairly. But, regardless of the reason for secrecy, she'd still hurt him. He'd gone to her house for weeks mourning Emily's "death", and she'd never even hinted at there being a possibility that Emily was still alive. He was mad, and felt he had every right to be. What, did she expect them all to just forget that they'd been mourning her death for all of those weeks? Because he couldn't. He felt betrayed.

JJ knew that she should have been more compassionate towards Spencer, but he had made it practically impossible. All of his passive-aggressive comments aimed at her had chiseled away at her compassion. Of course she expected him to be a little upset, but never had she anticipated him to be so harsh. He was acting so immature, just like a child. Shouldn't he be elated right now? He was simply angry at himself for not being able to detect the lie at the hospital, and was now taking it out on her. Or at least that's what she told herself.

After offering a quick greeting to Spencer, everyone turned their attention back to Rossi for the cooking lesson. They all tried it out on their own, laughing as they did so. Rossi praised his friends and coworkers as he taught them how to make the delectable meal. Except for Derek, who received neither praise nor an increase in his cooking skills. When trying to sauté, he had the heat turned up too high almost set the fire alarm off. They were left coughing and waving away the smoke, making fun of his cooking skills, or lack thereof. In fact, they were still joking when it was time to actually eat.

"I don't think I sautéed my onions for long enough," Emily commented as she spun a bit of noodles around on her fork.

"Maybe you should've worked with Derek. Then, both of you might've had something edible," JJ joked.

The whole team laughed, except for Spencer. Although he'd had a decent time until that point, he'd remained rather taciturn. He simply wasn't at ease with the way things were left between him and JJ. He felt as if she didn't understand, as if she was refusing to see things from his perspective.

"Hey, hey! Leave my chocolate prince alone!" Penelope said, placing a hand on his arm.

"That's alright, Baby Girl, I'm tough. I can take it," Morgan replied, grinning.

"Unlike somebody we know," JJ muttered to Emily, barely audible.

Had somebody accidentally clanked his glass or dropped a piece of silverware, her words would have been completely masked, and nobody would have been the wiser. But just the opposite happened. While she uttered those four words, there was a lull in the conversation. Nobody was talking, setting their glass down, or clicking a fork against their plates. They made it to Spencer's ears rather clearly.

"Really, JJ?" he asked, exasperated. He shoved himself away from the table and stood, making his way to the exit.

"Spence, don't!" she called after him, slightly embarrassed that this was happening in front of everybody, but determined none the less to hold her stance.

He froze and started shaking his head. "Don't what?" he asked bitterly, walking back over to the table. "Feel devastated that you lied to me, even though I had been relying on you for comfort for weeks? Feel betrayed and angry because you're still being mean to me? You never even validated my feelings when I needed it! It's like you just expected us to all simply accept the fact that Emily is alive and you were lying, without us even batting an eyelash!"

"You _should_ be happy she's alive! And by the way, you haven't been so kind to me recently, either," JJ defended.

"I _am_ happy that she's alive. But you know what? We grieved for her, all because you didn't tell us what really happened. Did you really think I _wasn't_ going to be mad at you?" he questioned. "And before you say anything, I know you had to, to protect Emily. Yeah, that hurts, but the way you've treated me recently has stung a lot worse than that. I think that you're feeling guilty, and are trying to deflect it by taking it out on me."

"I think _you_ need to calm down and look at thinks rationally," JJ replied. "You'll realize how childish you're being after you've had more time to think."

"Childish? What, do you think I'm just having a tantrum? It's much more than that! You've been a terrible friend through all of this! I needed you to be understanding, but instead you just act as if I'm being completely irrational!" he snapped, and then turned on Emily before JJ could reply. "Don't misunderstand what I'm about to say, I know what you went through was hard. Losing friends is an awful experience, but on the plane, you told me that you'd grieved for six friends when I only had to grieve one. That's just a big lie. You didn't mourn our deaths! You knew we were alive and well, and that you'd probably get to see us again, so don't even compare that to what happened to us."

Emily opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure what an appropriate response would be. What she'd gone through, aside from being separated from them, was a terrible experience, one that she wouldn't wish upon a dog.

JJ didn't waste any time, replying instantly when Emily paused. "Spencer, don't antagonize her!'

"Isn't that what you did to me? Or have you forgotten all that you said to me? JJ, you even criticized my profiling skills. I'm not pissed because I didn't figure out the secret. I trusted you guys! We all did! That's why it was so easy for you two to lie to us all of this time, not because you're so good at hiding your micro expressions!" he shouted louder, his anger clearly evident.

By this time, JJ had risen to her feet as well, and was glaring at him from across the table. "I didn't call you immature just because you're mad. I said it because Henry has handled this whole thing better than you!"

"Wow," he said, taking a step back and shaking his head. "Have you ever stopped to think about how I feel? If it was you who got caught on the outside?"

"I know I'd handle it a lot better than you!" she shouted back.

"Oh, really? Imagine if your dead sister walked through that door, and everybody but you knew that she was still alive!"

Everybody at the table froze, completely shocked by his words. JJ's lip started trembling, and tears filled her eyes. Emily shot a glare at Spencer and then rubbed JJ's shoulder in attempt to comfort her. Penelope gasped, gagging on the bite of pasta she'd had in her mouth. Morgan let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, stunned, and looked over at Penelope to make sure she wasn't truly choking. Hotch attempted to say something, but couldn't force any words to come out. Rossi raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised by the words that had come out of Spencer's mouth.

But Spencer didn't need to see their reactions. He knew he'd said the wrong thing as soon as they passed through his lips. "JJ, I… went way too far. I-I'm sorry."

Spencer dashed away from the table and out the front door, not quite believing what he'd actually said. They were so harsh. So cruel. JJ didn't deserve that.

Spencer had walked halfway down Rossi's walkway when he heard his name being called.

"Spence."

He balked and turned his head around, responding to JJ's voice. She was standing at the edge of the porch, staring at him with pain in her eyes, and mascara smudged around them.

"I'm a jerk. I shouldn't have said that. I crossed the line," he confessed, slowly advancing towards her. He prepared to be cursed out, something he felt he deserved. But her words surprised him.

"Is that really how you felt?" she whispered, so low he had to strain to hear her.

"Yes, it is. Or, at least that's the closest you'll come to understanding what I felt," Spencer replied gently and slowly. "But that didn't give me the right to-"

"No, it didn't," she said quickly but softly. "But I think I understand. And I'm sorry, too."

It didn't seem appropriate to tell her she was forgiven, so instead he hugged her tightly. She sighed and hugged back, resting her chin on his shoulder.

After several seconds, she pulled away and said, "Let's go back inside and finish dinner. I'm sure everybody's worried about us."

Spenser nodded and opened the door for her, following her back inside to what would surely be an awkward experience.


	2. The Cabin

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters.**

 **I wrote this for a horror story contest over on Wattpad. Unsurprisingly, I didn't win, but I thought I'd share it here. It's more like suspense than horror, really. (Read it in the dark for the full creepiness effect!)**

 **This story is set shortly after the season 10 ending, and contains spoilers from that season.**

 _"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."_ -H. P. Lovecraft

A lanky man tentatively stepped farther into the dim cabin, lit only by the light from the nearly full moon. He stiffened after an unsuccessful attempt at switching the lights on, then violently flicked the switch up and down repeatedly. Still, nothing happened.

"It's broken," he said quietly, his words echoing around him in the small cabin. He drew in a deep breath.

The darkness was agonizing. There was just enough moonlight filtering through the curtains for his mind to convince him that he saw something at the corner of his vision, which eluded his eyes when looked directly upon.

 _Come on, Spencer, don't be so childish_ , he scolded himself. _There's nothing there_.

He quickly fumbled through his messenger bag, pulling out a black flashlight and dropping his bag. He clicked it on and pointed the beam around the room with jagged motions, pretending that he was simply clearing a house with his team and the police all behind him.

Satisfied that the room was safe, he stepped into the kitchen, letting the light rest momentarily on the dirty dishes sitting in the sink. That wasn't surprising, because it'd been almost seven months since anybody had been in the cabin. In fact, he'd been one of the last people to step foot inside the place.

The first thing he remembered seeing was the blood. Spattered on the couch, pooled on the floor, and soaking through the sheet that had been draped over the body. It was one of the three most horrifying experiences of his life, and he prayed he never have to see something like that again.

However, it wasn't the blood that disturbed him. As an FBI agent that solved murders for a living, he could eat his breakfast while reviewing a case twice as gruesome. The difference was that those people where strangers, but the man murdered here was an old friend and mentor.

After searching all the rooms of the small cabin, he returned to the living area to wait. Upon entering, his spine tingled. Somewhere in the darkness ahead of him there was a low scratching noise. He shakily shined the light towards its origin, fearing the worst.

But instead of something demented and dangerous, he saw that the wind had simply caused a tree branch to brush against a window. He smiled, feeling slightly silly, and he was actually glad he was alone for a few seconds. That way, nobody saw how much of a scaredy-cat he really was.

He returned to looking around the room, trying to see if anything had changed since the last time he'd been there. The flashlight stopped on a row of paintings that hung from the wall, its harsh beam reflecting off the glass. Most of the pictures were of various birds, but one stood out immediately. He recognized himself at restaurant, surrounded by his teammates from nearly ten years ago. JJ, Morgan, Hotch, Elle and himself were sitting around the table, laughing.

"I guess Gideon took the picture," he mumbled, glancing to the exact spot on the floor where his body was found. He shined the light down at the ground, but couldn't make out any remaining bloodstains on the wooden floor.

Suddenly, there was the distinct sound of metal rattling, and he whipped his flashlight around. The golden doorknob twisted slowly at first, then began violently shaking. His body froze and his mind raced with fantastical explanations for this. It could have been a ghost, or perhaps someone preparing to murder him in a similar fashion to Jason Gideon. Any minute now, the door would burst open, and some horrifying spectacle would lunge forward to terrorize him. Even though he knew his thoughts were irrational, and not to mention he was expecting somebody, he placed a hand on his gun for good measure.

The door did burst inward, but there was no terrible being waiting on the other side. Instead, there stood a slim woman with blonde hair, squinting against his flashlight's beam.

"JJ," he said, the words escaping his mouth before he could contain them. He relaxed, letting his hand fall from his waist.

"Hey, Spence. I don't ever remember that door jamming so badly," she greeted, shielding her face with a hand. "Honestly, Spencer, you're blinding me."

"Oh, sorry," he quickly apologized, pointing the flashlight downward. "I couldn't get the lights to turn on."

"Really? They already turned the electricity off? Jason Gideon's son isn't supposed to be selling this place for another three months. I thought Stephen would at least keep up with the electricity until them," JJ said, pulling out her own flashlight.

"It's creepy here without the lights," Spencer said, holding in a shudder.

"Yes, the inherent absence of light is _very_ creepy," JJ agreed with a smirk that was barely visible in the darkness.

Spencer rolled his eyes. She was one of the few people who knew about his fear of the dark, and obviously wasn't above teasing his odd way of wording it. Determined not to let her have the last word, Spencer decided to retaliate. After all, he wasn't the only one who had an irrational fear.

"You know what's worse than the dark?" Spencer asked, unable to keep the mischief out of his voice.

"What?" JJ played along, raising an eyebrow.

"Being in the middle of the forest at night, surrounded by hundreds-, no, _thousands_ of trees-"

"Hey!" she complained, playfully swatting his shoulder. "You win."

Spencer smiled for a few seconds, basking in his victory. But then he remembered why they were here, and suddenly smiling seemed so wrong. The dreary feeling he'd had before JJ arrived started to return, and it was evident on his face.

 _Gideon shouldn't be dead, and we shouldn't be taking his things_. The thought flashed through his mind, completely overshadowing the carefree happiness he'd felt with JJ only moments ago.

It must have hit JJ at the same time it hit him, because the smile slowly slipped off of her face. She stared off into the darkness without focusing on anything in particular, most likely gripped in the clutches of a memory.

"JJ," Spencer said, snapping her out of her daydream. He focused his light on the picture he'd found earlier for her to see. "Look."

"There's you, and me, and Elle, and, well, everybody," she said fondly, a small smile forming on her lips. "I guess Gideon was the one who took the picture."

"Yeah," he agreed, holding the beam steady for a few more seconds. "So, does it make the list?"

"Definitely," she responded, taking it from its place in on the wall and placing it on the couch.

Suddenly, he felt all of the emotions he'd been dealing with flood over him. The sadness, the fear, the pain of missing him.

"Spence, are you alright?" JJ asked softly, noticing the change.

"It's just," he began, not quite sure how to articulate all of his jumbled thoughts.

"Talk to me," she coaxed as she took a step towards him, taking care not to bump into him.

"I miss him so much," he blurted out suddenly. "I know we hadn't seen him in years, but I never felt this sad before because I always just assumed that he was happily living out his life somewhere and that maybe he'd come back to visit one day, but now that could never happen. He's gone for real this time. I know it's been longer than three months, which is the socially accepted amount of time needed to grieve, but-"

"Slow down," JJ said, carefully placing a hand on his back. "If you're not ready to do this, then we can come back in a month or so. Hey, maybe we could schedule it during the day."

"No," he replied firmly, feeling a tear drop roll down his cheek, despite his effort to keep them in. "I'm okay, really. Plus, with the new baby coming and our jobs, we'd never be able to find the time."

"You could come back with somebody else," JJ suggested, her forehead creased with worry lines.

Spencer shook his head. "No, I want to do this with you."

Wordlessly, she drew him into a hug. They both found comfort from their sadness in each other's embrace, if only for a moment. Spencer drew away first and sighed.

"I'm glad Stephen's letting us go through his things before it's sold," Spenser said a bit absent-mindedly, shining the flashlight around.

JJ didn't reply verbally but instead nodded, tapping her foot against the wooden floor.

"Why so antsy all of a sudden?" she asked him.

"What?" Spencer raised an eyebrow and stared at her for several seconds, trying to understand what she meant.

"You're tapping," she responded, confusion spreading across her face.

"I thought that was you," he responded breathlessly, fear gripping his heart. But he wouldn't let JJ see that.

JJ pressed a single finger against her lips, the undisputed symbol for silence. After listening for several seconds, they both realized that the rhythmic noise was coming from one of the outer walls, near a window. They exchanged a look.

"I'll look," JJ offered.

 _Thank god!_ Spencer thought, relief flooding through him. Although he knew that it was probably just a tree branch again, the thought of glancing out of a window and seeing a face staring back made him want to shut his eyes and hide under the coffee table.

She poised the light to shine out the window and then stepped towards it, peering into the darkness outside.

 _See? It's nothing_ , Spencer told himself after observing his friend's relaxed body language. No sooner had the though crossed his mind, did the situation change completely. JJ tensed and gasped, pushing herself away from the window. A moment later a deafeningly loud noise rang through the air, followed by the soft tinkering of shattered glass.

"JJ!" Spencer cried out, reaching for her falling body, but he was too far to catch her. She landed in a sitting position on the floor with a _thud_.

"He shot at me!" JJ gasped with round eyes.

"What? Elaborate," Spencer commanded as he helped her back onto her feet.

"There's a man, with a gun! I think he's coming around to the front," she quickly relayed, the color drained from her face. "Spencer, we're supposed to be the only people here."

Before she had finished speaking, Spencer had sprung into action. He pulled out his gun, pushed JJ into a corner, and thrust her own gun from her holster into her hands.

"I'm going to check it out. You stay put," he directed, managing to sound a lot braver than he felt.

She nodded slowly and swallowed. Normally, she was fine whenever they had to stand tall in the face of danger. He had seen her search houses that were ablaze with crossfire, fight hand-to-hand with unsubs, and question some of the most horrific people they'd ever come across, all with a fire for justice in her eyes. But now her expression was one of pure terror, and her arms shook as she held the gun out in front of her. One glance at her slightly protruding belly gave him the reason.

 _She can't stand the thought of loosing another_ , Spencer thought.

"JJ, you're going to be fine. You _both_ will be," he promised, determined to keep it.

She gave a quick nod and he turned away from her, dashing to the front door and out onto the porch. He held his gun and flashlight out and went down the steps, pausing to listen for footsteps or the rustling of brush. Instead, he was met only with the sound of crickets chirping. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he began circling the house.

The beam of his flashlight cast strange shadows formed by the trees, which all seemed to hide an unknown threat. He felt foolish for being scared of looking out of the window earlier. Stalking around the cabin, looking for the man who tried to shoot JJ was easily a thousand times more terrifying. He felt a dark presence growing at his back, but knowing that that was purely psychological, he didn't dare turn around in case he missed seeing something in front of him.

He sucked in a breath of the crisp night air when he saw it. Just barely peeking out from around the next corner of the cabin sat a glossy black shoe. He focused his flashlight towards the corner and prepared to act.

 _Why am I so shaky? I've done this before_ , he thought. _No, I haven't. I've always had my team with me. I'm alone now._

"FBI! Put down your weapon!" Spencer shouted, swinging around the corner.

Nothing was there. He swung his head around in confusion before his eyes eventually focused on the forgotten shoe.

"Damn it! I've been set up!" he cursed, pressing his back against the wall of the cabin. He shone his light back out into the wispy trees, illuminating only a small portion of all the possible hiding places.

 _Hold on. If he wanted me, he could've easily gotten me by now. I'm completely vulnerable,_ Spencer realized, tightening his grip on his gun. _He wanted me out here because..._

"JJ," he whispered as it hit him.

Before he had time to even move, a scream cracked through the quiet night air.

"JJ!" he shouted, blindly lunging for the back door. He grabbed the doorknob and yanked, but it refused to twist.

 _Locked. Of course_ , Spencer thought, taking a moment to stop and think. He began quickly running ideas through his mind, swiftly coming to a possible solution.

 _If Morgan can do it, then so can I!_

Spencer stepped back and kicked the door with every bit of terror-induced strength that he had. The door creaked, but his kick had accomplished nothing, except for a shooting pain in his foot.

"Okay, so I'm not Morgan," he hissed, balancing on one leg for a moment, allowing the pain to subside.

Not seeing any other option, he aimed his gun and fired at the glass. Wasting no time, he reached through the window and unlocked the door, quickly pushing it open. He staggered through the kitchen and into the living room, where he'd left JJ.

"No, no!" he gasped upon finding it empty. He shone his light upon the place where he'd last seen her. Her flashlight was lying on the floor, pictures hung at odd angles, and one was laying face down on the floor, decorated with a few drops of blood.

"There was a fight," he observed, trying to remain level-headed despite his growing panic. Judging from the way everything was happening, he decided it was safe to assume that they were both still in the cabin. He took a step back, ready to search for JJ, but his neck was greeted with the cool feeling of steel.

"Put the gun down," a voice whispered into his ear, "or I'll slice open your neck."

Spencer tensed, reluctantly dropping the gun. His hope began fading away after he heard it _clank_ against the floor.

"Good boy," the voice whispered again, patting the top of Spencer's head.

Spencer flinched slightly, but other than that his whole body was frozen with terror.

"Is that her blood?" Spencer's voice cracked when he uttered the words, as he was barely able to force them from his mouth.

"Why, yes it is," he replied in a smooth voice, completely void of compassion or concern.

Spencer imagined that his lips were twisted into a smile that was thriving off of the fear in his own voice.

"You'll be joining her in the bedroom. Now go."

Spencer slowly stepped forward and forced a limp, trying to buy as much time for himself and JJ as possible.

 _If she's still alive_ , He thought reluctantly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. _No, stop it! You can't show this man_ any _fear. Crying will only make him work faster._

Then suddenly the cool knife was gone from the back of his neck. In the next moment he felt a cool spark of pain in his in his shoulder that made him cry out.

"Faster," the man whispered, ripping the knife out of his shoulder.

"Stop!" Spencer shouted, blindly jerking himself forward as he tried to escape the growing pain. It was impossible to completely hide his fear from the man now, as he was wiping tears from his eyes and scrambling helplessly towards the bedroom door.

In that moment he was completely overwhelmed. JJ was at least hurt, the man had returned the knife to the back of his neck, and he was bleeding – although the pain was not currently unbearable.

The man reached in front of Spencer and opened the door, thrusting him forward into the room. He tripped and fell, his face bouncing off of the hardwood floor upon his landing. Spencer's flashlight jumped out of his hand and skidded across the room to cast an eerie glow upon the bed. Spencer tried to lift himself off of the floor with shaky arms, but something caught his eye. One of the sleeves of his light blue shirt sleeve had turned jarringly dark.

 _My blood?_ He wondered. Although given his job he was used to seeing blood, the thought was especially disturbing because it was _his_ blood that was now pooling on the floor. This realization forcefully changed his perceptive of everything.

 _Am I going into shock?_

Dazed and gasping for air, Spencer lifted his head up slightly to look upon the bed. There sat JJ, her blonde hair acting as a sort of halo, giving him the impression that she could've been an angel. Forcing himself to focus in on her face, he noticed a tiny red stream flowing down her forehead.

His focus changed again when he saw the man sit down next to JJ and throw his arm around her, then tracing her neck with something metallic. She looked down at him, her mouth silently opening and closing.

Although Spencer was vaguely aware that something wasn't quite right with the image in front of him, his foggy mind wouldn't allow him to figure out what it was. Everything felt so numb and dream-like, that he simply dismissed it, willing himself to slip into the darkness that was taking over his vision.

But something uncomfortable tickled at his mind, forcing him to think. Confused, he looked up to JJ, the one person he knew, without a doubt, he could trust. She was still looking down at him with a harsh determination glowing in her eyes. But there was a somewhat tangible fear in them that he recognized, even in his current state, that made him question the situation.

 _Is she talking to me?_ he wondered as he watched the way her mouth moved, because sounds weren't quite reaching his ears.

 _Is she saying 'Get up'? Why would I need to stand?_ he mused. _It's much more comfortable down here._

He looked at their motion again, and realized that he was mistaken.

 _She's saying 'Wake up'. Am I dreaming?_

He looked to her for more guidance, but the man next to her pulled JJ out of his field of vision.

 _Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ he thought, mentally trying to force his way out of the nightmare.

"Wake up!" Spencer gasped aloud.

Almost instantly, reality slammed down on him. Sounds came into focus, as did the terrible burning pain in his shoulder. And suddenly the scene he'd seen moments earlier made sense; JJ was in danger.

Spencer pushed himself off of the floor, this time taking care not to look at his shirt sleeve. Because he wasn't sure where his gun was, he grabbed the only thing he knew to grab: his flashlight. He shone the light towards the bed, clearly illuminating both JJ and the man, who had gagged her and tied her wrists together during his delirium.

"Think carefully now," the man hissed, holding the knife to JJ's throat. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to do anything to... damage her."

"Who are you?" Spencer asked, narrowing his eyes at the man. There was something so familiar about his thin, hollow face and thinning head of dark hair. spencer, still being a little foggy-headed, couldn't give his name.

"Think hard, Dr. Reid, and I'm sure you'll remember me," he replied with a grin, readjusting to get a better hold on the knife.

As he corrected his grip, Spencer noticed the butt of a pistol peeking out from behind the dark fabric of his jacket. Looking at him with his mouth gapped open and his eyes narrowed, Spencer began trying to place the man's face. Shaking away his drowsiness and using the wonders of his eidetic memory, Spencer sped through a normal day in his life. Waking up, getting ready, riding the subway, arriving at work, going to his desk at the BAU, and then coming home. Hundreds of faces flashed by him on his commute to work, but none were the right person.

Then somebody popped into his mind, somebody that he'd passed day after day for years, but never consciously noticed before.

"Xavier Robertson," Spencer spouted off. "You've been a security guard in the FBI building for years."

"Yes. But with my skills, I should've been so much more than a mere guard. I would've been one of you, on the BAU by now!" Robertson growled, giving both agents a disdainful look. "If only..."

"What? What happened to you?" Spencer asked in attempt to keep Robertson focused on himself, so that he could inch closer.

Wordlessly, Robertson pointed down at his feet, which were covered only by socks, having left both of his outside. In response, Spencer shifted the light down, but still didn't understand what Robertson meant.

"Be a dear and pull this sock off," he commanded somewhat sardonically, swinging his foot up within JJ's reach.

A bit hesitantly, she grabbed the tip of the dirty sock and pulled until. When it came off, her eyes widened in understanding.

The foot was flesh-toned, but light reflected off of it oddly, as if it were made of plastic.

"You lost your foot," Spencer commented. He had intended to say more, but a sudden wooziness descended upon him. He blinked several times and forced himself to keep paying attention, praying that he wouldn't fall over or pass out.

"Damn car accident," Robertson spat out. "But the foot's not the only thing wrong with me now. I got a bad back, and so many other problems."

"That's terrible," Spencer said, feeling a bit steadier than he had earlier. He continued cautiously, not sure exactly what he should say since they didn't have a profile of the man. "But why are you taking your problems out on us?"

Although Spencer wouldn't have thought it possible, the man's face grew darker. "Because you two shouldn't even be on the BAU in the first place. You're supposed to be a liaison, but you decided it could be fun to play profiler," he snapped at JJ, pressing the knife against her throat. "Any you, Dr. Reid, you started fresh out of training. How old were you? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? It' supposed to take ten years of hard work before you can even think about applying for that job.

" _I_ did that hard work. _I_ dedicated twelve years of my life to the FBI. I could've practically reached out and grabbed the opening on the BAU. But the wreck took that away from me. I hate idiots like you two, who 'just happened' to get the job without all of the qualifications."

After hearing a bit more of his story, the pieces began connecting in Spencer's mind. There was only one thing he didn't understand.

"So after the accident and you were demoted, you knew that, after all the pain you went though just being a guard, that you couldn't possibly be an agent again. It was a harsh reality, but you accepted it and moved on to live a content life for several years. Until now," Spencer said. "What changed?"

Robertson reached up and grabbed a hand full of his dark hair, easily pulling it out. He held out the clump for both of them to see. "I was somewhat content, but then _this_ happened. The results of chemotherapy. Even with it, I've only got about a month left. I'm a dead man already, you see."

 _He's got nothing to lose. I can't talk him down_ , Spencer realized, his palms growing sweaty. Judging by the horrified expression on JJ's face, he knew she realized that as well. This was his end game, and Spencer was the only person that could do anything to stop him.

Not seeing any other option, Spencer lunged forward, swinging his heavy flashlight. He grabbed at the gun poking out of his jacket as the end of the flashlight made a dull _thunk_ against Robertson's head. Dazed, but not unconscious, Robertson staggered back and thrashed out in response, whacking Spencer in the neck.

Normally such an uncoordinated blow wouldn't have had very little affect on Spencer, but he'd lost a lot of blood, and was unsteady anyways. It sent him flying back and crashing onto the carpeted floor. Upon opening his eyes, he saw Xavier Robertson storming towards him.

But Spencer was still recovering from the fall. There was no way he could move quickly enough to get away.

"Help!" he shouted, even though he could already see that JJ had yanked the material way from her mouth and had her foot poised for a kick.

Although JJ's kick didn't hit him in a critical spot and had very little power behind it, it still sent Robertson stumbling sideways, away from Spencer.

"You!" he snarled, quickly regaining his balance and lunging at her.

With a sharp cry, she fell backward with Robertson landing on top of her. He scooped up the knife that he'd dropped earlier and poised it above her, ready to thrust it deep into her chest.

But at that moment, a gunshot rang through the air. The knife fell harmlessly from Robertson's hand, and he slumped over beside it.

"Spencer!" JJ cried breathlessly, looking over at him. He was still holding the gun out, pointing at Robertson. "He's dead, Spencer."

Spencer sat the gun down, but a tortured look hung on his face as his adrenaline faded away and the pain in his shoulder grew.

"JJ, are you alright?" Spencer asked, his voice nearly failing him.

"I'm fine. Just a bump on the head," JJ replied, wiping from her forehead a small amount of blood. "What happened to you? Are you okay? You look awful."

"He stabbed my shoulder," Spencer told her. Simply uttering those words made his feel nauseated and dizzy.

"Let me help," she said, taking the flashlight from and helping him up with his good arm. steadying him and supporting part of his weight, JJ took him out of that room and set him on the couch.

"I bet he's the one who turned the lights off," he mumbled. "To make us more vulnerable."

"Probably," JJ agreed as she tied her shrug into a makeshift bandage over his wound. "Where's your phone? He took mine, and I don't know where he put it."

"Messenger bag, by the door," Spencer replied, relived that it was almost over, and that help was going to come for them. Until an unsettling thought protruded into his mind. "JJ, you hit your head. Do you think, that the baby-"

"He's fine," JJ replied quickly as she took his phone out of the bag. "I can feel him kicking."

"He?" Spencer questioned, relaxing again.

"Or she," JJ replied as she dialed three digits into his phone: nine-one-one.

Spencer let himself sink into the couch, the feelings of fear and dread slowly ebbing away, although the burning pain refused to be relived so quickly. He was listening to JJ talking in the background when he felt his hand bump against something on the couch. Although he couldn't see it in the low light, he knew it was the picture that both JJ and he had been looking at, the one of all of them eating together and smiling. As he pictured that moment in his mind, he knew that everything was going to be okay. No matter what crazy moment he was living through, he would always be okay as long as he had his family to take care of him.

 _"Fears are nothing more than a state of mind."_ -Napoleon Hill


	3. The Return of Jason Gideon – Part One

**Spoilers from season 10.**

 **After thinking about my last one-shot, where JJ and Spencer are in Gideon's cabin, I started to wonder how the team would respond if Gideon returned to visit them {Spoiler Alert} sometime before his death, which is what spawned this one-shot.**

There had been nothing peculiar about the day to make any of the profilers on the BAU suspect it was going to be anything _but_ a normal day. There were no birthdays or anniversaries. They weren't actively working a case. Of course, there was enough unfinished paperwork lying around to keep even Spencer Reid busy, but that wasn't so unusual.

Derek Morgan shot the qualified genius an envious glance from his cubicle in the bullpen, but he was so focused on reading a file that he didn't even notice Derek's glare.

 _He's probably going to be finished by five,_ Derek thought, _but I'm sure as hell in for a late night. It's barely past lunchtime, and I already need a coffee break_. He stood and stretched his arms, letting out a yawn as he felt a satisfying burning sensation in his muscles.

"I agree," Kate Callahan mumbled without looking away from her computer screen. Even David Rossi let out a sigh in response; but Reid simply closed the file he'd been flipping through and grabbed a new one, impervious to his surroundings.

Carrying his FBI mug, Derek walked over to the kitchenette and poured a fresh cup with a grin. But the thought of returning to the mountains of paperwork superimposing his desk made him groan.

 _Maybe I could visit my Baby Girl for a little while_ , he thought, and a smile briefly flicked on his lips. _No, she's in a meeting with Hotch. Besides, I've_ got _to finish this paperwork._

Taking a deep breath, Derek turned and exited the kitchenette, only to stop short a few paces later. There, walking across the catwalk, was the figure of a man he hadn't seen in almost a decade. Derek stared at him with a look of astonishment, but the man didn't pause to look at anybody. He just walked straight into Hotch's office without even knocking, as silent as he'd entered.

Derek looked over at his coworkers to see if he was mistaken, and had simply imagined Jason Gideon walking though. Reid was too engrossed in his work to notice and Callahan had barely glanced at the newcomer, but Rossi returned Derek's surprised stare, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, _Do you know anything about this?_

Derek shrugged helplessly in response, suddenly feeling numb.

 _He disappears for– what, seven years? And then just shows back up?_ Derek thought, shaking his head. Before he could make sense of any of it, he heard a loud crash, and felt scorching liquid splatter across his pants.

Derek muttered a curse and balled up his fists, angry with himself for dropping the mug.

"Here." JJ had appeared by his side out of nowhere with her right hand full of napkins.

"Thanks," he said, grabbing them and dabbing at his pants.

"Are you okay?" JJ asked, concern for her friend expressed in her voice.

"Gideon went into Hotch's office. I saw him walk by just now," Derek explained, making passionate gestures his free hand.

"What? _Jason_ Gideon?" JJ gasped, her eyes widening. "I just left my office, and I didn't see anybody. Are you sure it was him?"

"Pretty damn sure," Derek replied. "Rossi saw him, too."

"Come on, let's go talk," JJ said as she led him over to the cluster of cubicles, the broken mug forgotten.

"Rossi, do you know anything about this?" JJ asked as soon as she'd reached his desk.

"Know anything about what?" Reid asked, his attention having been pulled away from his work by all of the commotion.

"Gideon," Derek answered.

Reid's eyes widened and his body stiffened, obviously fearing the worst.

"Gideon is in Hotch's office," JJ added quickly.

At her words, Derek saw him visibly relax.

"Who?" Callahan asked, looking confused.

"Jason Gideon. He was unit chief before Hotch, about seven years ago," Derek elaborated.

"Actually, it's been six years, ten months, and five days," Reid corrected as he intensely stared at the window of Hotch's office, as if he thought he could see through the closed blinds if only he looked hard enough.

 _Who cares?_ Derek snapped internally, but managed to hold back. It wouldn't be fair to release his accumulating anger on Reid for something that wasn't his fault. Jason Gideon was the one to blame.

"Oh, him," Callahan replied, glancing at Hotch's office door.

"Yeah, _him_. He just left us, without so much as a good bye," Derek said, not even attempting to hide his sudden anger. "It's like he didn't even care."

"That's not entirely true. He left me a note," Reid said quietly, looking down at his hands. After a quick glance at Derek's posture, he continued. "Honestly, I was upset for a long time after he left. He helped me through so much. He was like a mentor to me, and then he just… left. I spent a lot of time fluctuating between being mad at him and just trying to understand." Reid paused for a moment to make eye contact with Derek. "What I realized was that you can't just focus on him leaving. You have to put it in the proper context."

"In the years that you knew him, Jason Gideon was a broken man," Rossi calmly stated, addressing nobody in particular.

"That's right," JJ agreed, nodding to Reid and Rossi. "I've thought about it a lot, too, and come to my own conclusion, similar to Spence's. You know, Gideon had it pretty rough right before he left. His girlfriend, Sarah, died at the hands of an unsub, and then we had that rough case where two people died and Hotch got suspended. Emotionally, he was at his wit's end, and something had to give. And it did. I think it could have been worse."

Reid mumbled his agreement as Rossi cleared his throat.

"He was looking for peace. He needed to believe that there could be an outcome other than death, and he wasn't going to find that working here," Rossi simply stated.

Derek couldn't deny the wisdom in Rossi's words. At that moment Derek realized that, after all these years, he'd never truly understood or accepted Gideon's blunt departure. He'd only looked at it as if Gideon had abandoned himself and the team, but there was so much more to the story than that.

"I've hoped that he'd come back one day," Reid said with a grin that quickly faded.

"What?" JJ prompted, seeing his frown.

"Now that he has come back, I have no idea what to say to him," Reid replied as he bit his lip.

"Well, for starters, you could say 'Hello'," a voice sounded behind him.

Every head turned to look at the man who'd snuck up on them while they were deep in conversation, but nobody said a word. Not even Hotch nor Penelope Garcia, who were standing beside him.

"Nothing?" he said, smiling as if he were trying to joke with them. But they weren't having it.

"Gideon," JJ said quietly, looking deep into his eyes.

"Okay, okay, I owe you guys an explanation, even if it isn't a great one," he said, completely casting aside the joking manner he'd started off with. "So much bad was going on back then, that I was completely overwhelmed. I suddenly realized that needed to get away from it all, so I did. I traveled around the country for a while and ended up living alone in Vermont for several years. The solitude was what I needed, but I realized I never really said goodbye. I came here today to do that."

"Why now? Why not any other day of the seven years you've been gone?" Derek asked bluntly, shooting a look at Reid to silence him before he even started trying to correct him.

Gideon let out a long sigh. "I thought about all of you often. I fully intended to come back and say goodbye, but the days just kept passing. Then, a few days ago I stumbled upon a video of Derek and JJ giving a profile, and I realized that I didn't even know you guys anymore, and I still hadn't said goodbye."

To Derek it was a feeble explanation, but one glance at Gideon's face told him it was sincere.

 _That's all that I can ask for,_ Derek thought. He noticed that everybody was looking at him, waiting to see how he'd react.

He kicked his empty desk chair at Gideon. "Then I guess we've got a lot of catching up to do before you say goodbye, huh?"

Gideon accepted the seat with a smile. They arranged themselves into a rough circle with Gideon, Reid, Rossi, and Callahan sitting in the chairs, while JJ, Garcia, and Derek found seats on the desktops. Hotch started off standing, but soon slid down to sit on the floor. Each talked for hours about the lives they'd led in recent years, mentioning the good and the bad. Derek wasn't surprised at all when the conversation didn't die down until after midnight.

"I must go," Gideon announced after glancing at his watch during a lull in the conversation. "I've got a flight to catch bright and early in the morning."

"Are we going to see you again?" Reid asked, suddenly alert although he'd been falling asleep seconds ago.

"Maybe. Maybe not," he said, standing up. He turned and walked to the door, pausing before he exited.

"Goodbye, everyone." And with that, the team watched him through the glass doors until he disappeared around the corner.


End file.
